Too Loyal
by Door Is Ajar
Summary: Father is defeated, and Mustang decides to spend his time directly afterwards standing outside in the middle of the war-zone, wanting to be left alone. However, he doesn't expect for him and his lieutenant to be in need of medical assistance so gravely.


_"Too Loyal"_

After the fight with Father, there was celebration around. No one could deny the instant relief and happiness that washed over every soldier that won the battle. Even the terribly wounded ones had large grins on their faces, if they weren't unconscious or nearly there.

Once Ed and Alphonse were clear off the field with the fear of the younger being too weak to be exposed to much of anything, other wounded fighters made their way off the battlefield, some with the help of comrades.

The last people off the field, for one reason or another, were Mustang and Hawkeye. _"I want to stay out here as long as possible, if that's alright with you, Lieutenant." _That was the only reason he gave.

"Yes, sir," she had replied, the two words coming out in a heavy breath.

And that was where the two remained: rooted in the middle of the wasteland as the sun granted the two warmth as it set.

"S-Sir..." It came out labored, and he could feel her body lean more heavily onto his.

"What is it?" he spoke, more suddenly than he thought it should be in fear.

"I-I'm sorry, sir... but can we..." She stopped talking altogether, causing some alarm to flare up. It shot up like a bullet when he slowly felt his lieutenant fall to the ground, finishing with a slight thud.

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant, are you alright!" He couldn't walk around in case he stepped on her; he was now a blind man, for Heaven's sake! But that just made it worse, not being able to help his subordinate at all.

It took a few seconds, but he began to hear shallow breathing directly below his feet. "I'm a-alright, sir... Just d-dizzy..." she replied, which sounded too reassuring to Mustang to even use that petty word.

Three minutes. That was what he heard somewhere. When your neck is slit, you have about three minutes before you die, or, at least, come close to it from the immense blood loss.

He knew it was well over three minutes before the little girl sealed up her neck wound, and she still fought with him, clutching him in what he believed the only way for her to remain standing. Now even that was impossible as she laid on the ground, too tired to even remain upright with all the weight she plastered onto him.

"Can you stand at all? You need to be treated," he asked, hoping and praying she could at least do that. It would avoid him running around, bumping into walls and knocking things over to find anyone.

"Y-You need to be treated, as well..." She was avoiding the question and his concern for her.

He would have growled in frustration, rubbing his messy black hair before rewording his question to receive the answer he wanted. Instead he simply spoke again. "You lost a lot of blood, Lieutenant, and you need to be treated by a doctor. If you can't stand, I'll have to leave you here until I can find someone. And God knows how long that'll take me now." He let out a small laugh at the end, knowing it was true beyond simple thought.

Her replies remained slow, hesitant, like she needed a breather before speaking. "_Not "like" she needed a breather, more like she had to breath before responding..."_ Mustang thought.

She thickly swallowed before responding, "I don't know..."

"W-What do you mean you don't know?" Mustang asked, quick on his feet to try and figure if something else was wrong.

"I-I can't see much beyond a few feet in front of my face... Your b-boots are to my left, and to my right all I see is a blur..." She wouldn't normally be so open about her weakness, but this meant she could get Mustang to a doctor, something she had been fretting over quite heavily since he decided not to go inside with the rest of the soldiers.

_"How ironic... A colonel who can't see a single thing and a lieutenant who's lost so much blood her eyes can't focus."_ he thought with a pit in his stomach.

"Just... try at least. Do you need help standing?" He leaned forward slightly, outstretching his left hand to the ground for her to grab a hold of.

"Your hands..." she trailed off. What was she talking about? Oh, right... King Bradly had stabbed both of his palms earlier, to hold him down against his will.

He let out a small "Oh..." before standing straight again. "How about I carry you on my back?"

"You can't be serious, sir..." It wasn't too loud; he had to be joking, so there was no use putting much effort into her reply.

"I'm not. I'll just bend down, and you can get on. You can still tell me where to go from there without having to stand up yourself."

It was all he could think of. He had shooed everyone away beforehand, telling them he didn't want to be disturbed. No one was to come and bother them, so why would they come now?

"You really shouldn't, sir..." She kept trailing off, and he could guess by just her words alone- they really were as plain as day- that she didn't like his idea or, in previous statements, that she wasn't too sure her voice would hold out for longer than a few words.

"Just trust me. How else are we going to get inside?" he stopped for a moment before continuing, figuring another reason might persuade her. "I wouldn't want you collapsing again, either." The sentence he hoped would make her change her mind and allow him to carry her instead came out softer. He knew why: She would push herself up again, to her feet, before falling straight back down to the ground. And he feared too much that would happen if he couldn't carry her.

"And don't complain that I also have injuries. My hands were stabbed, but they're not bleeding crazy like your neck was. And I may be blind now, but I don't feel _pain_ from it. That's part of what's stopping you from walking to the hospital with me with ease," he continued. It was harsh, but nothing that wound cause a sting with his words.

He leaned down, his back facing her, to allow her to get on in what would normally be called a piggy-back-ride.

She knew he would have it his way. He didn't look at this as something stupid, and neither did she. But he was doing too much for her. It should be the other way around.

With a sigh, she sat up, slowly to not cause the blood to rush to her head too quickly and cause her to already become dizzy again. She then looped her arms around his neck, followed by pulling her legs on either side of his waist, between the holes his arms showed to enable himself to hold her legs.

"You up alright?" he asked, not moving before she replied with a "Yes, sir."

Mustang returned to his feet, not at all surprised by how light she was to carry, before giving a quick jump to hoist her up more and for him to get a more comfortable grip.

"Now where do I go?" It was all her now, she just had to tell him exactly what directions to follow to reach the hospital.

"Walk straight. I'll tell you when to stop," was all she replied with. He took her word for it, a little surprised at this, though, that she wasn't more specific with her directions like naming the exact length he would need to walk.

He walked about ten feet with steady strides, thinking how incredibly lucky he was for receiving no bloody wounds. _"Even Fullmetal got it worse than me."_ A few more feet and he felt one of his Lieutenants arms release itself from around his neck. A loud slapping sound was then heard, right by his ear at that.

"What was that, Lieutenant?" he questioned, having a pretty good idea what she just did.

"Sir?" She was at a loss to what he was referring to, apparently thinking her actions were normal. Her hand returned to its original place before she figured what he meant. "Oh... I... slapped myself, sir..."

"Can I ask _why_ you would do something like that?" His continued question gained a small bit of a joke to it, knowing he wasn't imagining her head lightly resting on his shoulder a few seconds beforehand.

"I was blanking out..." her sentences began to trail off again, he noticed, and he felt her head once again come down onto his shoulder. This caused him to stop in his tracks, not knowing if a wall was mere inches away from his face at the moment.

"Sure wish I could see this..." Mustang muttered, a smirk capturing his features.

"Excuse me, sir?" she asked, slapping herself once more as if that would let her hear what he just spoke.

"Nothing, just talking to myself. Now where do I go?"

"Go forward one more step and make a left. Just keep going that direction for a while..."

About twenty more slaps later- Mustang had counted himself- she said, "Go to the right and keep going that way. You'll reach the... the front doors to the hospital, sir..."

"About how many steps would you guess?" he asked, a small plot forming in his head.

"About thirty, thirty two at the most."

"Alright, now I have one more request of you, Lieutenant." He kept his cool, knowing anything suspicious would sure catch her attention.

"What is it, sir?" Another slap attacked her face, and she blinked twice to ineffectively clear her blurry vision.

Mustang hadn't started walking yet with the knowledge that he would have to count his steps carefully in a second. "I'll go ahead and make this an order: You are not permitted to slap yourself again." His voice, however much she hoped he was joking, relayed nothing recognizable to it. It only gave the true effect of an order like he made it.

She sighed once more before asking, "How am I supposed to stay awake?"

"Hm... I would figure that one out unless you want me strolling around the hospital with you asleep on my back," he spoke before giving a genuine laugh. "Lighten up a little, it's not like someone won't see me before I slam into the doors."

"Yes, sir..." she replied. That was all she gave him before he began walking.

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight..._

Her hand reached up to her face before snaking their way around his neck. Even if his order was the stupidest thing she had ever heard, she wouldn't disobey it._  
_

_Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty..._

He felt her head slowly make its way onto his shoulder once more.

_Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three twenty four, twenty five..._

It was a slow movement, but she did it. She slapped herself awake again. "Sorry, sir..." she whispered. He wondered how something like that could already be a force of habit. With no idea, he could only conclude that the fact she was on his back, supposed to be aiding him in finding the hospital, that her mind didn't quite let her go.

_Twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight, twenty nine..._

"How much further?" He knew she was awake now; no fault in asking her a question.

"...Three more steps, then pull open... no, push open the door."

_Thirty, thirty one, thirty two..._

He stood in front of the glass pane, not moving anymore. "Hello! Can someone please get this door?" he yelled. Within what he imagined to be two seconds, he heard the door being opened inwards.

"Finally made it, I see. I heard from..." He was greeted by Breda, who obviously didn't completely understand the situation.

"Breda, just tell me, where are our rooms?" Mustang asked in a hushed tone, keeping his sigh of relief under lock-and-key as to not wake the now sleeping lieutenant. _"At least my command helped somewhat."_

"Yes, sir."

The two traveled down one long hallway, which made the Colonel a little uneasy. What hallways are that long? he figured being blind made them just appear longer than normal. Every few steps he also felt the soft breath of the person he was carrying through an open mouth. For one reason or another, he attempted to make his breathing match hers, causing a little surprise when Breda eventually told him to stop, which was then followed by the opening of a door.

"The lieutenant's bed if right here, sir."

He didn't give a sign of thanks or anything remotely similar, simply stepping in and lightly dropping the lieutenant onto the comfy-looking bed.

"I need to speak with you, can you lead us into the hallway?" Mustang asked after grabbing onto the second lieutenant's shoulder for directions. He was now not greeted by a reply by words and, instead, just the man walking out of the room.

The door gave a soft click before Mustang started talking, unknowingly cutting off the other man. "Lieutenant Hawkeye suffered a wound to the neck along with another on her shoulder. Did you know about this?"

"Yes, sir. I heard from Falman through someone else about the physical conditions on both you and the lieutenant."

"Alright, now go find a doctor. She needs attention if that wasn't clear enough already," The Colonel gave a small smirk at the end, figuring Breda would know he was referring to her letting someone carry her.

Another "Yes, sir," was heard from the other man before he heard boots walking away from him. Mustang then turned around and rubbed his hands against the wall to find the doorknob. H successfully found it in mere seconds, which filled him with a little bit of pride. He turned the handle and then heard another click for the sound of the door closing.

"Colonel..." It came out so quiet, he figured she had just woken back up... already.

"Yes?"

"How long was I out?" She sounded slightly defeated, which he then figured came from trying to desperately to stay awake, only to fall unconscious at the last leg of their walk.

"Don't worry about it, it was only about five minutes, not even," he replied as he sat down on the corner of her bed.

Before the two could exchange any more words, the door opened inward to reveal Breda and a doctor. "Now Ms..." the man in the white "lab-coat" started, trying to find her name on his clipboard. "Hawkeye... If I understand this correctly," the man continued, making his way over to her bed and now looking down at her, "your neck was slit and you got a cut on your shoulder. Those are the most serious injuries you have, correct?"

"Y-Yes, sir," she replied. Mustang looked over her way, unhappily finding that he was blind. Now he wouldn't be able to clearly see why she was hesitant to answer.

"Alright, I would like Mr. Mustang to step out for a moment. My assistant will be with you in a second to quickly evaluate your injuries." The doctor finished his explanations, proceeded by Breda guiding the Colonel into the hallway. "Don't freak out, sir. I'll tell you everything once it's over for the both of you," the man lowly spoke before entering the room and closing the door once more behind himself.

That was it. His lieutenant was in that room- the one room he was no longer permitted in- without the ability to stand and, for some reason, slightly frightened of the doctor. _"Maybe that's her new phobia, with the Gold-Toothed Doctor and all..." _Mustang thought, hoping doctors wasn't something on her list.

"Are you Mustang?" a voice called a few feet to his left.

_"This is going to take too long..."_

The entire process took about an hour he would guess. He primarily was asked about how he felt, nothing that he could see would help in the least bit._  
_

"Do you feel dizzy?" _"My lieutenant does."_

"Did you suffer any major loss of blood, besides your hands?" _"Her neck did."_

"Do you have difficulty staying standing?" _"I had to carry her here."_

He wanted to cringe at it all. He answered no to those three questions with countless more following, the only real thing he had plausible answers to revolving around Hawkeye.

"Your hands are all bandaged and clean now. You just need to-" the assistant was cut off as Mustang began talking.

"Do you know anything on how Lieutenant Hawkeye is doing?"

"Sorry?" He seemed lost, like he had never heard that name before in his life.

With a sigh, he spoke again. "Can I just go now?"

The doctor was, by far, not expecting that kind of question. "But you should rest. You just fought and won a war."

"I'll rest easy when I know if my lieutenant is alright. Now can I go and see how she's doing?" The assistant pieced together the only two he was given and, from what Mustang figured a quiet "Hm..." mean, figured he was actually considering it.

"I'll see if she's accepting visitors. Stay here until I come back." That was all he was given, but at least he knew there was some possibility that he could check on her.

The time the other man was out of the room- Mustang never caught his name, there was really was no reason to remember it- only took five minutes. He returned with a slightly grim presence (however that was possible), causing panic to once again fill the Colonel.

"I'm sorry, but they just started her operation for closing her neck and shoulder wounds. I can still take you back to your room, though, until she's out. Just given me about a half an hour to clean up and make sure your room is alright for your arrival."

_"Why would she just now be starting? Breda said he would tell me everything, and he better keep his word..."_ Mustang angrily thought, sitting with his head down in pure agony of having to wait.

* * *

Now sitting with his legs dangling off the side of the bed (which took over an hour of waiting in that dang room because of the assistant's simple mistakes from being new) Mustang awaited Breda's return from what he recalled being only a stop at the restroom.

The door opened and said man stepped inside, hoping the other couldn't tell the slight distress he had. "Sir, you wanna know about Hawkeye, don't you?" It was obvious. What other reason would he have for rushing back so quickly?

"Yeah, like why is her operation just now starting?" a slight amount of venom filled his words but not directed at the man he was currently talking to.

"Long story short, she refused to go to the operation before knowing you were alright. They couldn't sedate her or anything, it would be a waste of drugs."

"I thought they would have to give them to her anyway?"

"They offered her the choice whether to use them in the operation or not. Said that if she thought she could handle it, they could use the short supply for more needy soldiers."

"How could she not be one of the needy after that!" Mustang yelled, losing his temper at this whole hospital fiasco.

It was Breda's turn to sigh, which was followed by, "I know, that's what I thought. But apparently they brought it up in exchange for waiting for your little ordeal to be over and to know if you were alright."

"But there was nothing wrong with me!" He couldn't believe his God-forsaken ears! She was still worrying over him! The far worst that could happen would be him running into a wall.

"Okay, so..." Mustang began, collecting his thoughts, "have you seen her since the operation?"

"Not yet, but when I was coming back from the restroom, I bumped into some guy who knew about it. He said it's almost over, but he couldn't understand how someone couldn't of passed out this far into the procedure yet. Sir, just don't go crazy when she gets back. She's lost even more blood having to get the scars stitched up."

The dark-haired man leaned back on his bed, top of his head nearly falling off the side from his strange position. "What am I gonna do with her?"

The two sat in silence, concern swallowing the two up. Ten minutes passed before a lady nurse walked in. "Hello? This is the room for Riza Hawkeye, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," Breda answered, standing up from a chair he found in the corner of the room.

"Thank you, sir," she replied without much thought, already walking in to hold open the door.

A doctor pushed a wheelchair into the room, situated on it being Hawkeye. Breda figured she looked fatigued earlier, but that seemed like an overstatement when compared to now. The Colonel would have gone insane if he could see.

The second-lieutenant walked over to Hawkeye, wrapping her arm around his neck to help her stand. She didn't give much notice, if any. Heck, he was sure she barely knew her name at the moment. He set her down onto the bed, then went to the extreme of picking up her legs and placing them onto the soft bed as well. This was when he realized that she and the Colonel were still walking around in their dirty, grimy clothes from the battle.

_"Must not have time to change each individual patient,"_ Breda thought with a little disgust.

"Sir, you have a phone call as well. Something along the lines of a Kaien? Something like that... Anyway, if you follow me, I can take you to the phones," the young nurse spoke to Breda with a smile, leaving the door open for him. He took one last glance at the Colonel, then the lieutenant, before facing back at the nurse. When the two had exited, Mustang wasted no time speaking.

"How are you feeling?"

It was hesitant, and before she answered she swallowed thickly, like something would have stopped her from speaking otherwise. "Fine, s-sir.

He, too, was hesitant in what to say next. But he took the chance and asked anyway. "Why didn't you take any sedatives or anesthesia?" He didn't give her any emotion to work with. That wouldn't help her with her false answer she would make.

"Colonel?" she asked, her voice shaky.

"What?" _"She should be answering my question..."_

"Are..." she swallowed heavily again before retrying. "Are you okay?"

"I am perfectly fine lieutenant, but that doesn't answer my question." He was growing slightly agitated, wanting to know why she would go through so much when it was right there to avoid!

"I wanted to know that you were alright, sir..." She leaned back into her pillow, her mind growing hazy. Her last bit came out lower, not as forceful. "I would be unconscious with it right now..."

Mustang felt like the assistant right now, having to put the only two pieces together to really decipher what she meant. When he did get it in what he considered record time, he was sure he had gotten it wrong.

"I already told you I was fine. Did you need more proof than that?" he asked, but his voice had returned to its regular volume and demeanor. "Did it hurt? The operation?" It came out softer than he would have liked, but he couldn't help it.

She halted a second before answering, finally giving in. "Yes, sir." Scared, child-like. Afraid of being scolded by their parent. He could relate that nearly-a-whisper response to all those and more.

"Are you trying to sleep?" He couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty at keeping her awake with questions if she was finally ready to fall out of this world.

"What are you going to do, sir?"

"Hm... Well, if you are, then I would have no other choice, myself. I can't very well talk to walls, now can I?" he joked. He heard the lieutenant give a sigh next to him instead of a laugh, but it meant all the same, that she was more than ready to agree with him.

"Good night, sir." Nearly nothing. He couldn't help but smirk the tiniest bit that she was finally relaxing.

"You too, lieutenant."

Within seconds, he could hear her shaky, deep breaths escaping and entering her mouth, much heavier than what he assumed was a way to make him worry less about her. He couldn't see her one bit.

The last thing he saw before going blind was her, lying in a pool of blood. That was the only remaining image that was fresh and clear in his mind of her. He now couldn't see her face, which had to be a mixture of pain and relaxation. What polar opposites...

Did it hurt to get sliced in the neck? Of course! The question had to be too stupid to even consider asking again. Was she scared at the fact she might die from it? Probably more so as he was pulled away into the door, which was proven to him as she yelled to him at the last second.

He gently stood up from his bed, keeping his arms stretching away from himself for the chair Breda sat in. He quickly found it located at the end of his bed, which he pulled beside the lieutenant's bed. He plopped his butt into the seat and placed his elbow onto the bed, his head resting on top of his hand.

She was breathing. Ragged, yes, but she was alive, and that would eventually lull him to sleep. The following morning he was sure his head would be on top of his arms on her bed, asleep until Breda, Fuery, and Falman would come in and tease him about it.

* * *

_Author's Note: I think this is the longest thing I have ever wrote that is only one chapter long... Also, please excuse or help me if I messed up anything medical. I am by far an expert at that kind of stuff. Moving along, I hope you enjoyed , which would hopefully mean a review~! XD  
_

_Update: Changed the end right after I posted it. I didn't like it. :I XD  
_


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